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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28830030">Finding The Colors</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveDeepStories/pseuds/ILoveDeepStories'>ILoveDeepStories</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Forehead Kisses, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, tw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:55:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28830030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveDeepStories/pseuds/ILoveDeepStories</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello, it’s late and I’m stuck in my loophole of emotions again. I wrote this to raise awareness around depression and mental health. Please know that it is okay to ask for help. And that you should not be ashamed or feel like a burden because you need help. I love you all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddy Chen/Brett Yang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Finding The Colors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>- hello, it is I again at 2:07 am this time. Im listening to the second movement of the Tchaikovsky violin concerto by Janine Jansen after having yet another crying session.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brett woke up to the sunlight hitting his eyes harder than he wanted. He grimaced and pulled himself up slowly, his head feeling heavy because of the hours of crying he had spent the night before. He realized that he was so unworthy of anyone’s love. </p><p>He was lacking in so much, whether it was the love he showed for his friends, his family, his fans, his violin. Everything felt bland to him these past few months, he had even started to hate the smallest things in life. His bed frame, the color of his mug, his curtains, how the bed sheets felt under his skin at night, how the sun was too bright for his liking, how everything in his house was so bright it made him sick looking at it. </p><p>He didn’t know why everything had lost meaning, and why everything also annoyed him. He missed when he used to enjoy filming with Eddy, he missed his daily coffee shop visits, he missed the way his bright house made him happy. He missed the feelings of happiness. It sounded so foreign when he thought about it, he hasn’t genuinely smiled in what felt like months. </p><p>Eddy had caught on to Brett’s change in behavior quickly too, and Brett had felt even more horrible when he saw his best friend who was also the love of his life and the man he cried about every night force his energy. Brett was draining him, little by little, Brett had even noticed how Eddy had started to become numb while filming, zoning out when playing the violin, and even stopped caring about cleaning the house. </p><p>Last nights crying session was the worst, Brett had imagined Eddy next to him, Brett’s head on his toned chest, hands intertwined. Eddy smiling down at him, brushing his fingers through Brett’s hair, kissing his crown. Humming some random piece as Brett fell asleep swimming in Eddy’s warmth and scent. However when his daydream had ended, the bed felt too cold for Brett, it had felt to empty, the sheets felt harsh on his skin, as if he was laying on a bed of thorns and one was etched so deep into his chest it left a gaping hole. He felt empty, alone, numb, ruined, and cold. He cried for hours, until his pillow was too wet, until he had ripped the sheets off the bed, until he had placed his head on the other side. There were puddles of his tears everywhere. He felt as though he were drowning in a black Sea. </p><p>After recalling last nights crying session, he held his head with both his hands, feeling as though it’ll fall off from how heavy it felt. He needed to shower, as much as he wanted to stay in bed for the next few years, he still had to film today with Eddy. </p><p>He opened his room and walked to the kitchen to brew his coffee, but to his surprise, Eddy was there with two cups in his hands. Brett wondered at what time had he woken up. </p><p>“Hey man, I wanted to talk to you over coffee before we start filming, go to the bathroom and come back” Eddy said, smiling. </p><p>Brett’s heart hurt again, it looked genuine, unlike the past few months. Eddy didn’t force his smile today, and Brett felt as though today wasn’t going to be so bad, Eddy was smiling enough for himself as well. Brett shook his head yes and headed to the bathroom. He washed his face for the first time in two weeks, and brushed his teeth. He exhaled heavily before opening the bathroom door and walking to Eddy sitting on the couch in the living room. </p><p>Eddy smiled at him again when he saw Brett, the punch came again to Brett’s ribs, he almost flinched but had smiled back instead. He felt as though his lips were about to rip, before letting them fall back to his dead pan face. Brett sat down on the couch, leaving some space between him and Eddy. He didn’t feel excited for the coffee like he did long ago. But he grabbed it for Eddy’s sake anyways. </p><p>He took a sip, and found no joy in the taste either, although it had been Eddy who brewed the coffee every filming day for years now. It had no taste today, just like the past few time. He looked at Eddy, avoiding his eyes, and nodded, waiting for Eddy to start speaking. </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Fast forward two months. </p><p>Brett woke up to the sunlight hitting his eyes, this was becoming a routine every morning now. He pulled him self out of bed and made a mental note of his goals for the day. Wash face, brush teeth, make coffee for him and Eddy, change into clean clothes, and do his bed. These were goals he had set for himself, and he was determined to complete them everyday. </p><p>Ever since Eddy had recommended seeing a therapist, Brett had felt a little better after finding help. He had started to find color fill his days again, he had started to taste his coffee. The other day Eddy had kissed his forehead and Brett felt as though he were sleeping on the softest clouds. He loved his friend, but he needed to work on himself, his health, he needed to take care of himself. He needed to love himself before he could love anyone else. He was proud of himself, and he was so grateful for his beautiful best friend. This wasn’t going to be easy, but it’s damn worth trying his best. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!! Sorry if there were any spelling or grammar mistakes. This is a quick Drabble idea that had come to mind.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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